The Duke's Undoing (Three Rogues and Their Ladies)

by Vandagriff, G. G.

  It was a lovely, crisp October morning, but Elise was anxious. She hoped to make a good impression on Ruisdell’s formidable aunt, who lived in Ruisdell Palace and who would be living close by in the Dower House after she was married to the duke. In addition, the duke’s younger brother, Lord Roger Northcott, who managed the estate, his wife, and twin sons now made their home in the Palace. They were not likely to welcome the bride who could give birth to progeny that would not only cut them out of the succession but, more immediately, oust them into the more rundown property on the edge of the estate near Taddington. It was evident to Elise that no one had expected the roguish duke to marry, least of all said roguish duke.

  She was glad of the consoling presence of her aunt, Sukey, and even the pets. “I always thought that when I married, I might have at least half a chance of finally gaining a loving family,” she said. “But I am bound to be seen as an interloper.”

  “I will always be your family, love,” her aunt said. “Derbyshire is not that far from London. I daresay, with a fast post chaise and four, I could be with you in a day and a half, should you need me.”

  “Well, Peter has never spent time here since his parents were alive. I cannot picture him being happy with long stays in the country. He told me that he intends to take up his seat in the House of Lords and become far more active in politics. Perhaps we will not be here for much of the year.”

  “You are to be a duchess, my dear, and don’t forget it. It is not likely that you will meet with another woman in the kingdom as cruel and unfeeling as Elspeth. You can stand up to his grace’s aunt and any other relations. I imagine you can stand up to anyone.”

  Elise took heart from these words. Looking out the window of the carriage, all she could see for miles was thickly forested landscape.

  “To tell the truth, Aunt, I am having difficulty believing I will actually be married this time. That I will become the Duchess of Ruisdell. I have been engaged too many times to believe that something will not go wrong at the last minute. I long with all my heart to be married to Peter, but I just cannot picture it.”

  “Completely understandable,” Sukey said. “No doubt you think you shall end up like me.”

  “Actually, Sukey, that would not be such a bad thing, and I can picture it more easily than the idea of my being Peter’s duchess! I mean, me, a duchess?”

  “You have not been able to spend much time with his grace since the ball. You’ve been at the modiste most days being fitted for your trousseau, as well as buying up all your linens and flitting from engagement tea to engagement tea ,” her aunt said. “I expect you are just tired.”

  Towards the end of the afternoon, the duke knocked on the glass of their carriage. Rolling it down, Elise heard him say, “We’re pulling into Northampton. We’ll spend the night here.”

  Elise was relieved. Perhaps she and Peter could steal some time together. Looking down at the star sapphire on her hand that was now, in actuality, her engagement ring, she longed to have his arms around her, to feel his heart beat next to her throat as she laid her head against his broad, hard chest. How am I to last until December before I can have all of him?

  When a prosperous looking inn appeared, the carriage came to a halt, and Peter helped her down. “Your Grace,” she said, twinkling up at him. “It has been a long day!”

  After he had helped her companions to alight, he said, “I think you’ll like this inn. Actually there is a nice little spinney not too far away where we can walk and stretch our limbs.

  “Alone?” she asked.

  “Alone,” he confirmed.

  Of course, no sooner were they alone and out of sight of the others than the duke stopped and took Elise into his arms. As she felt the length of him warming her, even through her Merino pelisse, he said, “You are going to love Ruisdell Palace. I am very anxious to show it to you.”

  Then he commenced kissing her—first her forehead at the edge of her hairline, then her eyelids, the tip of her nose, and the corner of her mouth. He did not stop there, but unbuttoning her pelisse he kissed her neck, tickling her with his tongue, and then proceeded to kiss her collarbones, and finally her breastbone down to where it disappeared into her bodice. Arching her back, she moved sinuously against him. She was tempting him shamelessly, but she had never been able to get the picture of Marianne’s bared bosom out of her mind. Her own was not nearly so magnificent.

  “Little doxy,” he whispered, his breath labored. “Why do you tempt me so?”

  “Peter,” she murmured, “I need to know that you want me. That you want me as much as you wanted Marianne. As much as all the women who have gone before me.”

  “Dear love, I want you more. Love adds a dimension that has never been there before. I don’t care how big your glorious breasts are, only that they are yours. They are luscious to me, as are your tiny waist, the curve of your perfect hips, and your long, long legs. You do not know what your body does to me.” His voice was close to a growl. “I have stayed away from you these last weeks as much as I could bear to. I do not want to despoil you, Elise.”

  “Is it very wicked of me to want to be despoiled?”

  He paused with his hand resting above her bodice, his fingers just stroking the lace that edged it.

  “We must go back to the inn,” he said with a tender smile. “It is my duty to protect you from yourself and from me. Do not let me forget that I have reformed.”

  Elise’s first sight of Ruisdell Palace was not to be forgotten. The carriage climbed between two peaks, bringing them to a high summit. From there she looked down to a placid lake, out of which a fountain shot at least twenty feet into the air. Behind this was the ivory stone palace. From this height, she could see its Eformation. Knowing something about architecture, Sukey said, “Look! You can see the Dutch influence in the dormer windows and the bell tower atop the main house.”

  “It is very fine,” Elise said. “And big. It quite takes my breath away.”

  Indoors, the servants stood in a double line to greet their prospective duchess. A red carpet had been laid in the main hall, which deprived her of all words. She gazed at the Italian fresco upon a marble cupola, held aloft by Ionic columns, crowned with a marble frieze.

  Elise was feeling very small by the time she met Peter’s aunt, a formidable woman in black, whose face looked like that of a witch in a bad fairy tale. The hook of her large Roman nose was so pronounced that it nearly touched her upper lip. She had a large black mole on her cheek that transfixed Elise.

  “This slip of a girl to be your duchess?” she asked with incredulity. “She has no presence.”

  Peter snapped. “She has more charity in her little finger than you have in your whole body. My tenants will worship her, as I do.”

  Elise, meanwhile, executed a curtsey.

  Her fiancé said, “This woman is my aunt, Lady Eunice Northcott. Aunt Eunice, my fiancée, Miss Elise Edwards, her aunt, Lady Clarice Edwards, and their dear friend, Lady Susannah Braithwaite. The cat is known as Queen Elizabeth, and in that basket, Lady Susannah carries her remarkably ugly tortoise, Henry Five. Beware. He snaps.”

  Lady Eunice passed right over Elise and her aunt, grasping Sukey’s free hand in hers. “Surely you must be the famous intimate of the Devonshires! Your tortoise is very welcome here.”

  “I am glad to hear it,” Sukey said. “He was a gift from Devonshire, as a matter of fact.”

  “Will you be visiting Chatsworth, while you are in Derbyshire?”

  “I expect we all will,” Sukey said. Flashing Elise a fond look, she lied, “Elise is a particular favorite of Harry-O, you know.”

  Harry-O was Lady Harriet, Devonshire’s daughter. Elise had met her only once when she came to visit the soup canteen. But she knew that Sukey had called on Lady Harriet to substitute for her when she was in Yorkshire. She stood a little taller at Sukey’s lie. Lady Eunice’s groveling behavior corrected Elise’s personal compass. She was where she belonged. Lady Eunice was the usurper. Sh
e had lived in this house that did not belong to her in any sense, making Peter’s life miserable on the times when he visited. Elise was going to make the duke blissfully happy in this cold marble palace.

  Her aunt whispered, “Begin as you mean to go on.”

  Raising her chin, Elise said, “We are all a little tired from our journey, Lady Eunice. “We would appreciate being taken to our rooms as soon as may be.”

  Ruisdell looked down into her face and grinned.

  The woman turned back to her nephew’s fiancée. “I have put you all in the central wing,” she said coolly. “I did not think it proper for me to vacate my apartment next to Peter’s until your marriage has taken place.”

  “Tonight I will sleep in the guest room you have prepared,” Elise said. “But tomorrow, I will instruct the housekeeper to move you into whatever other room you like, until your departure for the Dower House. I mean to take up residence in the duchess’s suite. Peter is properly behaved and will not take advantage of the situation.”

  The old woman’s eyes grew round and her face red. Elise feared she might actually have apoplexy on the spot. “Peter!” Lady Eunice turned to her nephew. “Will you let this baggage treat me thus?”

  Ruisdell turned smoothly to his aunt and said, his voice hard, “You will apologize to my fiancée at once! She is not baggage; she is my beloved. You never occupied the position of duchess in this palace. Therefore, your occupation of the suite these many years has been a great imposture. You will either act in accordance with Elise’s will, or I will see that you are moved into the Dower House—which, I must remind you, you will only be occupying by virtue of my largesse. You are certainly not the dowager duchess, nor have you ever been.”

  “There is something very havey cavey about this!” Lady Eunice protested. “Such a short engagement! Is Miss Edwards increasing?”

  “Now you owe both of us an apology!”

  The servants were all looking at one another, and communicating in low whispers. Elise hoped that they disliked this usurper as much as she did.

  “I am sorry, I am sure,” Lady Eunice said with undiminished hauteur.

  “This palace may be large,” Peter said, “but it will not have two mistresses.”

  “But who will teach this chit how to go on? She can’t possibly know.”

  “She is not a chit but the granddaughter of a duke on her father’s side. Scarborough. I would never have married a lady who would not be able to be my duchess in every respect. Elise is highly capable.”

  Once in her guest room, a dimly lit place with only a token fire and drapes so old they were falling to bits, Elise sank into a worn chintz-covered wingback chair. Pulling off her bonnet, she heaved a sigh. Phew! She did not know how she was going to last living with that woman for the next six weeks. Not wanting to be at odds with anyone, she felt deflated and sad.

  The palace was a showplace in the public areas she had seen. But it felt too much like a mausoleum. How could this ever be home?

  There was a soft knock on the door, and Peter stepped inside. “You were magnificent, my love.”

  She rose and walked into his arms. “I think the only place I will feel at home in this huge, cold place is in your bed.”

  “It isn’t terribly homey now, but I have every confidence that you will make it so. We haven’t talked about our honeymoon. You once mentioned your desire to tour the Continent. Shall we not fulfill your dream? And buy tapestries and carpets and paintings to make this place our own?”

  “Oh!” she said, pulling away from him in order to see his beloved face. “What a wonderful idea! Directly I wake up tomorrow, I want a personal tour of this place. We can plan together what changes we want to make.”

  “That will be a good plan for the morning hours. In the afternoons for now until however long it takes, you are going to be sitting for your portrait. The sixth duchess of Ruisdell. A good friend of mine is by way of being a portrait artist. He is coming to stay tomorrow.”

  “Oh!” She was startled. “My goodness, Peter! Whatever shall I wear?”

  “I want you in midnight blue—perhaps your ball gown? There is a family necklace of sapphires which will be lovely with it. And a diamond tiara for your luxuriant hair. Have I ever told you how much I am looking forward to seeing you naked with your hair down?”

  She giggled. “Peter, you take my breath away.” Stepping back a bit, she said, “I cannot see myself ever becoming a grand duchess, whatever you said to your aunt. I never met my grandfather. He died before I was even born!”

  Warm brown eyes with a glint of mischief looked into hers. “I merely wanted to put my aunt in her place. You will be whatever kind of duchess you wish to be.”

  “Right now, nothing sounds nicer to me than a good night’s rest. Except perhaps a kiss?”

  She relished his taking her hungrily into his muscular embrace and kissing her as though he owned every part of her. His ardor was scarcely restrained, and she was all too aware that there was a bed nearby. She strained herself against him, her breath coming in heavy gasps. He was stepping backwards to the bed, and heaven help her, she was staying with him, not willing to be separated by as much as an inch.

  “Elise?” Her aunt was knocking on the door.

  She whispered, “I shall miss you, miles away in your suite!” Louder, “Come in, Aunt.”

  “Yes, Lady Clarice. It appears that we have a problem.”

  “A problem?”

  “Yes. I assume you want your niece to retain her virtue until we are married?”

  “That is the problem?”

  “It most certainly is. We must move the marriage date forward. We must be married without delay. Tomorrow would not be too soon.”

  Lady Clarice actually blushed. “What do you suggest, Your Grace? A special license?”

  “I will leave tomorrow morning to track down the nearest bishop.”

  “You are not afraid of scandal?”

  “Not in the least,” Elise said stoutly. “You know how badly my engagements always turn out! I’ve been involved in some brangle or another ever since coming to London. We are tucked away here, and the sooner we are wed, the better I will feel.”

  “If we need countenance, perhaps Lady Susannah will invite Devonshire and anyone who happens to be staying at Chatsworth House at the moment,” the duke said. “Meanwhile, you must meet my brother and his family before I go. They have the east wing at the moment. I consider it a grave insult that they did not meet us this afternoon when we arrived.”

  “You have not spoken of it,” Elise said. “But has he perhaps come to think of himself as your heir?”

  “Confound it, yes! And I will have him tossed out on his ear on our wedding day for his insolent behavior to you.”

  In the event, the introduction was made in the dramatic red and gold drawing room before dinner. Since she had discovered how much he liked it, Elise had dressed in the gown she wore to the duke’s ball, and Kitty had arranged her hair high on her head to add to her stature. She even wore the star-spangled gold tiara.

  The duke’s brother proved to be a plain and sober man. He was small and balding, his dress conventional but not in the same league with the duke’s exquisitely tailored wardrobe.

  When introduced to Elise, Lord Roger said merely, “Welcome to Ruisdell Palace. Allow me to introduce my wife, Alice, Lady Roger.”

  “You have children, I understand?”

  “Yes. They are still too young to join us for dinner,” Alice replied with an odd complacency.

  Elise had never been so grateful for her aunt and Sukey. Between them, they kept the conversational ball rolling at dinner. Peter impudently slid out of his evening slippers and caressed Elise’s foot with his own. She could scarcely maintain her countenance.

  Dinner was cool, owing to the distance of the dining room from the kitchens. This was an early change she would make, Elise decided. Surely, with all the rooms in this palace, another room closer to the kitchen could be found to
be set up for dining. She was also going to see to it that the fires were larger and burned for enough time to warm up the rooms prior to their being used. She had permanent gooseflesh on her arms since arriving in the palace front hall.

  Obviously not relishing a tête-à-tête with his brother, the duke led the party into the drawing room, at dinner’s conclusion, dispensing with the port and cigars ritual.

  “Elise, darling, do play for us,” he asked, motioning to the pianoforte.

  “Gladly,” she said. “Herr van Beethoven has just published a lovely sonata. I brought it with me. If you will but ring for Kitty, she can fetch it.”

  “And a shawl, I think,” Ruisdell said dryly.

  When Kitty returned from the hinterlands with her mistress’s music and shawl, Elise was grateful to escape the stultifying conversation between her aunt and Alice. A fond mother, Alice was describing her children’s love of the palace and the park. Elise recognized a campaign when she heard one.

  Though unable to understand how anyone could talk through the exquisite “Moonlight Sonata,” Alice demonstrated a complete disregard for the music and continued her monologue. Fortunately, the duke remained by Elise’s side, turning her pages.

  “Shall we treat them to an aria from your aunt’s cat opera?”

  “They certainly deserve it,” she chuckled.

  “Watch this,” he said.

  Clapping his hands, he was able to get Alice to cease her conversation. “I imagine you have all heard of Herr van Beethoven? The most famous musician in the world today? Well, it so happens that my dear fiancée chanced to meet this distinguished gentleman when they were both in Vienna. So captivated was he by her beauty and talent that he wrote a small piece just for her.” Elise, guessing what was coming, struggled to keep her face all that was dignified and to refrain from giggling. “Darling, will you play ‘Für Elise’?”